Chapter 28: Shared Agony

"Pain shared!" The words hit like a thunderbolt. Song Ruozhao jumped three feet high, only to be struck by a sharp, piercing agony in her heart. To make matters worse, she twisted her ankle, which immediately swelled up like a stuffed bun.

Beside her, the unconscious Ju Sifu let out a moan in his sleep, mirroring her pain. A string of slurred curses followed, as if someone in his dream were gripping his ankle, clearly nursing a grudge.

As they cried out in unison, the thoughts that had been hijacked by her agony suddenly screeched to a halt. She hurriedly asked the system, "Our pain is linked?"

[System: Yes.]

Song Ruozhao’s eyes widened. "Linked to this mysterious sissy?"

[System: My dear Zhao, who else did you think it was?]

Having forgotten to use a name earlier, she asked again, fearing a mistake, "Linked to this Ju Sifu?"

[System: There is no record of a 'Ju Sifu' in the Time-Space Identity Registry! Please ensure the name you entered belongs to the human species.]

Song Ruozhao: "..."

If Ju Sifu could extract this memory, the sheer heat of his rage would be enough to keep thousands of little match girls warm.

The pain in her foot continued to spread. Song Ruozhao touched her palms, which felt as smooth as jade—there was warmth, there was a pulse! She hadn't been brought back from the dead; the blood slightly seeping through the bandages on her chest proved that her life had been snatched back from the jaws of the King of Hell. Finally, she checked her own breath in disbelief.

Qianchun, who had just walked over with a medicine pot, blinked: "??"

"Your time hasn't come yet; I'm sparing your life for now." As Qianchun spoke, she set down the medicine, propped up Ju Sifu, and used a split bamboo stick to slowly feed him the tonic. Because he couldn't swallow well, the liquid trickled down, soaking his pale blue collar.

Watching the thick, vibrant medicine stain his dark robes, Song Ruozhao’s intuition told her this potion was incredibly precious, even if it was losing its color as it seeped into the fabric. She sighed, finding it a terrible waste. "Wasting such good medicine... we are quite a distance from the capital, and no matter how much gold you have, you won't find better medicine than this."

"It doesn't matter," Qianchun replied, cold as an icicle, as if she didn't care for Ju Sifu’s life at all. Yet, from what she had read in her memories, there was such a bright, burning affection beneath that exterior.

Qianchun spoke slowly: "Besides, it’s made with your heart's blood anyway. If it runs out, I'll just take more."

"..."

For the first time, Song Ruozhao felt her intuition was far too accurate. No wonder the tip of her heart felt like it was being gnawed on by vermin. This medicine wasn't just precious—it was literally costing her her life! Sharing the same heart's blood: no wonder the system had bound their pain together.

Qianchun handed over the pot. "Feed him this every two hours. I’m going into the deep mountains to catch a pheasant."

Song Ruozhao, a woman who sought vengeance for every slight, snapped, "You treated me like that earlier? If you leave, don't blame me if I can't resist killing him."

"Hmm..."

They exchanged a look of inexplicable, mutual malice. Qianchun, seemingly indifferent to her lover's fate, replied, "Fine. If you kill him, I'll just use your heart's blood to save him again. Besides, while you were unconscious, I had you swallow a poison pill concocted by him. If he doesn't wake up, you have nowhere to run."

Song Ruozhao: "..."

She watched as Qianchun picked up the abandoned hunting tools from the City God Temple and walked out without a backward glance.

The light faded. The foot of the mountain was coldest at sunset, and as darkness fell, icy gusts of wind swept through the temple like waves. The two of them were left alone, shivering.

Song Ruozhao reached up to take the vermilion cloak from the statue. "King of Hell, though we haven't met in the afterlife, we've had a brush in this temple. Since we're stuck here tonight, we might as well be roommates. I'll take your cloak as a housewarming gift."

"I don't mind the dust..." She shook off years of grime and wrapped it around herself, finding it quite useful. The statue of the King of Hell, with his leopard eyes and lion nose, remained motionless, likely speechless.

Song Ruozhao sighed. Social etiquette was essential. She took out a small pear-wood horse she had been carving and offered it as a tribute. "A fine horse for a distinguished deity. Why not take it to the afterlife for a ride? Please, accept it!"

Moyuer, her little companion, scurried out of her sleeve, snatched the wooden horse with its claws, and began gnawing on it like a frantic chick. Song Ruozhao felt it was just making a mess, so she lifted it by its bright red antennae. "There are plenty of bugs outside; go find your own food. There are gods watching from above—if the King of Hell catches you, don't come crying to me."

Moyuer vanished, then snuck back, stubbornly clinging to the wooden horse, determined to dig a fat worm out of it. Song Ruozhao let it be and turned to the medicine pot, seeing a final dose left. She thought about how the medicine was always coughed back up, a pointless waste of her unique, peerless heart's blood. If Ju Sifu didn't wake up, her blood would be a total loss.

Hitting upon a brilliant plan, she pinched her own palm hard, again and again, until the man finally groaned in pain and stirred awake.

Dazed, he muttered, "Why does my palm hurt?"

"Because you're itchy," she retorted.

As the cold deepened, Song Ruozhao’s almond eyes narrowed. Her shoulders trembled as she sneezed three or four times in a row, the air seeming to tear like silk.

At that exact moment, a familiar and unwelcome sensation of blood flowing from her body occurred—a delicate flower of warmth seemed to bloom on the soft fabric. She did the math: a cycle had indeed passed! A sharp, stabbing pain pierced her abdomen.

She tried her best to hold back a cry.

Moyuer: "Your aunt is here!"

"Ouch—"

On the straw-covered pallet, Ju Sifu clutched his stomach, rolling in agony. He began to doubt existence, having never felt such a sensation before.

Moyuer: "Did he get his period too?"

Song Ruozhao: "..."

She hadn't been in pain before, but the cold, combined with the unseen loss of her heart's blood, made this far worse than usual. A strange, firm resolve filled her eyes, and her steps were steady as she walked over to take Ju Sifu’s hand. "Fate is truly terrifying. From now on, we are bound in life and death."

"?"

The look in her eyes was irresistibly tender. No one had ever spoken to him with such warmth before. It nearly shook his resolve to kill her.

He bit his lip, his dimples flickering. "I will still kill you. Even if you have feelings for me, I am not a man swayed by such sentiment."

"?" Song Ruozhao immediately flung his hands away, her eyes widening in shock.

She didn't bother with subtlety. "Our pain is linked. We may not have love, but we are essentially husband and wife in name. If you take good care of me, you're really just being kind to yourself."

Ju Sifu looked as if he had wandered into a dream, completely bewildered. "???"